


Scissors Beats Rock

by th3rm0pyl43



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: BDSM, Boot Worship, Butt Plugs, Cock Rings, First Time Domming, Iron Max Gets to Be Scary, Light Bondage, Light Spanking, M/M, Military Kink, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Tactical Cuddles, Uniform Kink, Veers is an amazing dom pass it on, buff!Veers, space cuirassier body appreciation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 14:53:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11292969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/th3rm0pyl43/pseuds/th3rm0pyl43
Summary: Two brilliant minds from two different worlds - one longs for peace, the other marches to war. When they clash, the warrior emerges victorious.





	Scissors Beats Rock

“...and keep that crate within reach, please.”

Galen made sure to etch the sight of that smile and those warm eyes deeply into his mind. He would not be seeing either of them for a while, he was certain.

The scientist shifted back and began to strip down. Once he was wearing nothing but a sure smile, he stood at parade rest and watched the general through curious eyes.

While Galen undressed, Max turned around to rummage through the bag of clothing he had brought. He pulled out what looked like an ordinary spare uniform and accessories. As he donned it with unhurried, deliberate motions, though, it became apparent that this uniform was not like the others - it fit closer and was cut more sleekly, and made his shoulders look even slightly wider with his gleaming rank bars pinned above his heart. The belt, a little broader than the standard-issue, hugged his waist tightly and complimented his flat stomach well. The sleeves and jodhpurs and even his impeccably polished boots - custom-fitted, no doubt - brought out the strength in his limbs, and his black synthleather gloves lent him an air of sternness.

Max kept his back to Galen until he had placed the cap on his head, then took another moment to wipe the giddy smile off his face and replace it with the cold steel mask of 'Iron Max'. Clenching his fists and squaring his shoulders, he finally turned on his heel and began approaching Galen with measured steps, head held high - slow, as slow as a walker ambling along on a patrol.

Galen's eyes widened with obvious shock, but he didn’t make a noise, nor did he smile.

Max, _his_ Max, was gone. The man who stood before him was General Veers, master of war machines, crusher of armies, conqueror of worlds.

Galen stood there like a statue, drinking in the sight of that powerful man, and tried to peel his eyes away. It was harder than it had been with Orson, because here, he wanted nothing more than to break his posture and claim his general.

With every last shred of self-control, he stood still and only voiced a: "Sir."

Veers took two more steps until he came to stand in front of Galen, towering over him. His mask of military stoicism, well-honed across decades of service, remained stony as ever as he locked eyes with the scientist, directing a deflector-crushing glower his way.

"Atten- _shun!_ " he barked.

Galen's spine locked in place and his arms came down to slam at his sides, his fists balled up properly. Veers studied him from head to toe as if sizing up a fresh recruit, then looked him in the eyes again.

"Name your code."

“Kyber” Galen answered without hesitation. “Kyber, sir.”

The general nodded sharply in approval, then turned to the right and began pacing in a circle around Galen - slow, always slow, deliberate. He opened and clenched his fists, making sure Galen heard the soft creak of synthleather and the harsh clack of his jackboots on the floor.

He walked past the bed, on which the crate rested, and took out a riding crop, weighing it in his hand.

Galen's eyes followed Veers’ movements, and when he was handling the implement, a shiver of both fear and excitement ran through him. The scientist shifted his footing to give better access to his body and be a little more comfortable. His eyes were trained on the crop, but he tore them away to look at Veers’ face. For some reason, sans his radiant smile, the general looked just as great as before.

He came back around.

"Eyes front" he ordered, the hint of a scowl on his features.

He stepped closer and raised the crop, pointing it at Galen's body, then lifted his chin with it, eager to see his reaction but not showing it.

Galen planted his feet firmly to the floor in an attempt not to shiver, and against his will, his eyes slipped closed to heighten the sensations. His posture was breaking, and it was all from one riding crop on his chin.

Veers tutted audibly, tapping the business end of the crop to the scientist’s cheek.

"Disappointing" he growled, using that tone otherwise reserved for a subordinate who had royally messed up.

He set course to pace around Galen again, reaching out to lightly trail the end of the crop up the back of his left thigh.

"Must I hand out _punishment_ , Dr. Erso?"

"Yes, sir" Galen rasped huskily, giving him the faintest of smirks, turning his head so the angle made him look like the most dangerous of predators despite his position making him so obviously the prey.

Without warning, Veers lashed out, the crop leaving an angry red stripe on Galen's left buttock with the sharp slap of leather on skin. He took care to tightly control his strength and hit just hard enough to hurt but not enough to leave marks that wouldn't fade within minutes.

"Mind your manners" he snarled, now outright scowling as he came around.

He stopped again and glared down at Galen with his chest puffed up.

"Who am I?" he more hissed than asked.

"My general, sir," Galen replied, adding a hint of boredom to his voice.

He had barely responded to the lash, and now he stood with perfect posture again.

"But, sir, is that the best you can do?"

Galen was used to play much worse than this, so goading Max into action sent exhilaration pumping through his veins. He was not scared, but managed to adopt a frightened expression.

Veers' scowl deepened, feigning a bruised ego. For a moment he considered his options, then his dark eyes glinted with anticipation. He lifted the crop again and nudged Galen's head to the left with its end.

"Left turn!"

Galen complied.

"What do you have in store for me, sir?" he asked.

Veers directed him to the edge of the bed closest to where the crate rested, then stepped close to Galen, reached over his shoulder and expertly fished a ring-and-plug combo out of the crate with the crop.

" _That_ ought to teach you to mouth off to your commanding officer. You will do it yourself."

Galen was a combination of pleased, scared, and exhilarated. He took the combo from the crop and looked at it for a second before he began to put it on. Within less than a minute, he was completely fitted, and only a press of a button from the switch in the crate would start his slow torture - or pleasure. Knowing as much, a full-body flinch rattled through him, and he wondered how Veers would react if he kissed him.

The general leaned in agonizingly closely.

"Do you want a kiss, Dr. Erso?"  
"Yes, sir. _Please_ , sir" Galen moaned lowly.

"Earn it" Veers replied curtly and straightened, still keeping that infuriatingly stony composure.

He gestured to the middle of the room with a flick of his wrist.

"On your knees."

Galen whimpered when he was denied the kiss. He looked over to where Veers was pointing with a "yes, sir" and complied. The flooring was sleek and hard under him, but he did not complain as he sank to his knees.

As soon as Galen had settled on his knees, Veers activated the switch and surveyed the crate's contents while studiously ignoring Galen's reaction, as much as he wanted to turn around and just pound him into the next star system. He lifted up the binders and studied them for a moment, taking his sweet time pondering what to do next.

Once the plug began vibrating, a groan slipped free and Galen leaned forwards. It was set so it would not vibrate fast enough to be truly pleasurable but not slow enough to have no effect, meant to slowly drive its user to the edge and, in combination with the ring, keep them from getting there. Galen shifted again and again, and his hands wandered to take the ring off, but he jerked them away at the last second.

Veers returned to the scientist’s side with the crop still in one hand and the binders now dangling from the other, the metal clinking softly. As Galen looked up at him, he swatted at his shoulder with the crop to make him keep his head down.

" _All_ the way down" he ordered, coming to a halt in front of him.

Galen's length found this new treatment rather interesting, and when he was staring straight down at it, a wave a humiliation hit him at how hard he already was.

Veers allowed himself the tiniest smirk, if only because Galen couldn’t see it.

"So desperate already?" he sneered, his tone dripping with disappointment - and a hint of playfulness, if one squinted _very_ hard. "Why, Dr. Erso, I expected more discipline from a man of your caliber. Though, it gets lonely among figures and schematics, doesn't it?"

He nudged Galen lower and forward, towards his jackbooted feet.

The scientist gasped as he realized what Veers wanted him to do. At first, it had been a bit vague, but now, almost face to face with the boots, Galen had a fairly good guess of what he was being made to do.

"S-sir..."

" _Yes_?" Veers drawled, arching an eyebrow.

He moved the tip of the crop from the back of Galen's neck to the side of his left upper arm, hoping to let him know that he would not have to do this if it repulsed him.

It took him a moment to decide, but finally, a few moments later, his lips kissed at the polished leather. He used his tongue as well to caress its gleaming surface. The taste was anything but perfect, but he could work with it.

Veers maintained his stony mask, though he failed to keep his cheeks from reddening as his mind rather unhelpfully wondered what it would feel like to have Galen's lips somewhere else on him right now. Minutely shaking his head, he reminded himself to stick to the plan, and tapped Galen's lean triceps with the crop.

"Hands up, behind your back."

Galen obeyed, raising his wrists at the somewhat awkward angle, all the while planting soft kisses and light licks on the leather. Veers bent at the waist, holding his legs still, and swiftly placed Galen's wrists in the binders, allowing him to lower his hands again. He then straightened and waited for another moment before reaching down, lightly tapping Galen's cheek.

The scientist looked up through the uncomfortable position.

"Yes, sir?"

The general had placed his free hand on his hip, clenched into a fist, and now glowered down at Galen over the visible swell of his tensed pectorals.

"Will you show your commanding officer proper respect now, Dr. Erso?" he questioned, the tip of the crop still resting on Galen's cheek.

Galen smirked, not afraid. A groan escaped his lips because of the plug, but that was it.

"Oh, I don't know, Max."

It was a risky move, but Galen had learned to prefer pain to pleasure.

Veers lashed out again, this time with a good bit of strength, hitting the slope between Galen's neck and right shoulder.

"Wrong answer" he growled.

"Sorry, sir" Galen hissed, voice cracking at the joint pain and pleasure. "I meant to say - _kriff no_ , Max."

Veers decided against using the crop again immediately and in favor of a change of tactics. He shifted to hold it in a reverse grip and stepped away from Galen, leaving his field of view and standing behind him.

" _So_ insolent" he drawled. "You would make a great Rebel, Dr. Erso, with that disturbing lack of respect towards hard-earned, righteous authority."

Galen's eyes slammed wide open.

"Only to you, Max. It's so easy to rebel against a general who won't use his authority."

Talk of rebels left a knot of unease in his stomach, painfully reminding him of Saw Gerrera and Jyn and the crippling flaw in the Death Star’s design.

Picking up on Galen's sudden discomfort, Veers made a note to throw 'rebel' out of his vocabulary for now.

"Are _you_ , a scientist who pores over schematics for a living, telling _me_ , a soldier with the scars and the rank bars to show for it, how to do _my_ job?" he questioned, placing a bit of indignation in his tone.

"Yes, I, a _scientist_ who _pores over schematics_ am telling _you, a general,_ that you are doing your job wrong and I pity you for it," Galen murmured, remembering to put a playful look on his face to assure him he was joking.

 _Hit me, you bastard_ , his eyes screamed.

Veers placed the tip of the riding crop on the back of Galen's neck, right beneath his slightly sweat-damp mop of hair, tutting softly with a nearly predatory smirk on his lips, and then donned his mask of command again.

"Have you led a sorry excuse for a battalion, whittled down to a tenth of its numbers," he asked darkly, "against an enemy who had nothing to lose and outnumbered you sixteen to one, in the desperate hope that you might as well take a few of those bastards to the nine hells with you?"

He slowly moved the crop downward along Galen's spine, still denying him the pain he seemed to crave so badly.

"Have you beaten down a mutiny with a machine that was not yet meant to be operational for two more months?"

While he spoke, he walked back around Galen to let him see him.

"Max, I'm sorry" Galen whispered softly. "Please… please, hurt me, Maxie… I deserve it."

At the same time, he shivered when he heard the battle stories.

Veers now stood in front of Galen, half turned, both to intimidate and to show off how little his tunic left to imagination - and to let Galen see how much he was enjoying this whole game.

"Have you _crushed_ an _army_ and had its otherwise so brave leader _cower_ at your feet, begging for his life?" he snarled through bared teeth, raised a gloved hand and tightly clenched it into a fist, knuckles cracking.

He shifted his stance to lift Galen's chin with the crop again, glowering down at him.

"Respect your commanding officer" he hissed, his tone low, spelling danger.

"...Yes… sir" Galen whispered, losing control. "Yes, sir."

When he repeated it, he was more sure. He was agreeing to bend to Veers’ will. He said it a third time, and this time, a few tears lined his eyes, though he was not upset. He didn’t even know why they were there; it was involuntary.

"Yes, sir!"

Veers denied him a reaction at first, only removing the crop.

"On your feet" he commanded, in a firm but less harsh tone, flicking the crop upwards.

Galen stood immediately, a weak smile on his face.

"Yes, sir."

It seemed to be the only thing his mind would let him say now.

The general stepped closer and replaced the crop with his hand, knuckles lightly brushing the spot where the leather had been just two seconds ago.

"Good man" he praised Galen and leaned in, finally giving him a firm kiss on the lips, though he pulled away before it could be returned, and immediately resumed acting his part.

Galen whimpered softly at the loss of the touch, and before he could bite it back, the whimper only intensified when the plug brought him closer to the edge with its steady vibrations.

"Who am I?" Veers asked again.

He twirled the crop in his hand like a nexu flicked its tail, feigning relaxation where there were only sharp eyes and coiled muscles.

"My general, sir!" Galen moaned. "You're my general, sir, my general, my love, my everything!"

Veers had to close his eyes for a moment and take a deep breath to keep his mask from crumbling right where he stood, determined to play the game until its end. With steadied resolve, he threw Galen an inscrutable look and slowly walked around him to place the end of the crop on his upper back again, above his left shoulder blade.

"Do you know your place, Dr. Erso?"

"Yes, sir," the scientist whimpered. "My place is below you, General!"

He closed his eyes and felt himself get closer and closer to the edge, urged by the plug.

"I'm yours to command, General. Yours… only yours..."

" _Stay_."

Veers commanded him to hold back, not quite trusting the ring to be enough. He trailed the crop outward, along the curve of Galen's shoulder, and down his arm, stopping at the binders.

"Do you want to act on your words, Doctor?"

"Yes, I do" Galen gasped. "I do, sir, I want to be yours to command."

His binders were opened by swift hands and clattered to the floor. Veers then moved the crop back up to his shoulders and tapped lightly on the top side, urging him to his knees again.

Galen got down to his knees again and looked at Veers for a hint as to what would occur next. His hands were oddly sore from the binders - they were made to be especially uncomfortable and too tight, but Galen thought he had gotten used to the metal restraints’ harsh demands.

Veers stepped back around to stand in front of Galen, his breath a little quicker than before.

"You may touch and pleasure me, Doctor" he said, the crop held in a reverse grip, well out of reach. "Do _not_ soil my boots."

Galen leaned forward and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to Veers’ crotch. He licked a wide, dirty stripe along his length through the clothing, and even a moan escaped him at the plug's urging.

Veers just barely bit back a grunt. He'd been hard since he had ordered Galen to put on the ring and plug, and feeling his lips and tongue on him now only made him swell a little more.

"You can do much better” he breathed, placing a hand on Galen's cheek and tucking the crop under his arm to have both hands free.

The scientist opened the front of Veers’ trousers with a tug and gently freed him. He looked up at him and said, "sir", before letting his tongue swerve around the slit, hands fondling what little skin lay bare. He moaned again when the plug forced it out of him.

Standing with his feet shoulder-width apart to keep his boots out of Galen's line of fire, Veers stroked his cheek and ran a hand through his unruly hair.

"Concentrated fire, Dr. Erso" he muttered. "Make this a joint operation gone right for once. Bloody toffed up vac-head _slackers_ wouldn't listen to dirtpounders like me..."

"Sir… the ring..." Galen pleaded before studiously pushing back onto Veers’ length, which was so hard he could feel it throb on his tongue.

He moaned again onto the length and sucked for real.

"I can bloody well hold my fire" Veers growled, his voice straining.

He held still with his hips to let Galen work on him. His knees went weak at the treatment and would have given out, were his thighs any less strong.

"Sir, please, I want… I need… I _have to_..." Galen begged.

He went back to mirroring the stripe on Veers’ pants on his length, base to tip, and let the head slip in his mouth, but then pulled off again.

"Please… _nungh_ … please, sir..."

He tried again to go back to his job but could not concentrate, moaning openly on Veers, a bit of saliva running down his throat.

The general forced himself to stare straight ahead in order to have any chance at lasting until Galen finished, now burying both hands in the scientist's hair.

"Please _what_?" he grunted. “Speak clearly!”

"Please, I need to come, sir" Galen gasped. "The… the… uhhh, ring..."

"You may remove it in _one minute_ " Veers declared and gently nudged the back of his head. "I know you can hold out..."

What felt like an ocean of sweat ran along Galen's forehead, and his fists balled up, rumpling the fabric of Veers’ trousers in their grasp. He panted and groaned and moaned and quaked and nearly howled all the while trying to remember how to bring Veers to climax while his own was crushing him like the whole of a damn Death Star fell on his chest, unrelenting and not willing to let go. The _damned ring_ …

Veers stroked Galen's cheek and felt himself steadily get closer to the edge. The scientist’s noises were tantalizing, sending hot shivers down his spine.

"Take it off, now.”

Galen leaned forward to use his hands. With unsteady fingers, he unfastened the ring, but the vibrator stayed in, hanging low with the weight of the ring.

"Please, may I come?” he whimpered. "Please, please… _please_!"

Veers bared his teeth.

" _Manners_ , Dr. Erso" he grunted. "Ask again... and don't leave your general out of all the fun..."

Galen spat into one shaky hand and with the steadiness of a spice user who was close to overdosing, he wrapped it tightly around Veers’ length.

"Please, General, sir, _please_ … may I come...?"

Veers closed his eyes and felt a wave of heat run upward in his gut, leaving behind a pleasant tingling, and he exhaled shakily. He was almost there.

"Yes, Doctor, you may."

"T-thank you, sir," Galen gasped, but did not finish - not quite yet.

Studiously, he waited to let the general finish first, whose breath was coming in sharp intakes.

"Those sweet-talking lips..." he rasped. "Use them!"

Galen complied, leaning to wrap his lips around the base of Veers’ length. He hollowed his cheeks and _sucked_.

Veers shuddered and placed one hand on top of the scientist’s head, fingers digging into his hair. It hardly took thirty seconds of sucking until he leaned back and released into Galen's mouth with a groan.

As soon as the liquid hit the back of his throat, Galen let go with a blissful sigh. He slumped back on his knees, boneless, wondering if he would be made to clean up his own mess.

Quivering, Veers remained standing for exactly two more seconds before he sank to his knees and slumped over Galen, holding on to his shoulders, uncaring whether he had just gotten the white mess smeared all over his boots. His mask finally broke, and he smiled with the sweet afterglow.

"Sir..." Galen moaned weakly, his eyes fluttering open. "Permission to..."

He was so oversensitized that he could barely speak now.

"Out... vibe..."

Galen looked about ready to pass out, his face a mask of tension covered in sweat. He leaned over and grabbed Max’ arm with desperation in his eyes. He was getting older, and oversensitivity was no longer something to disregard.

"Please..."

Max nodded, shivering.

"Yes, take it out. You've done well."

In a rush to remove the plug, Galen nearly hurt himself. His mind craved more, but his body rejected any more stimulation, and he turned to wrap a shaky arm around the general.

Max held Galen close, gloved hands gently stroking his upper back.

"You've done so well" he muttered and kissed his cheek, a smile on his lips. "Did you enjoy it?" he asked softly.

Galen opened his eyes again to peek at his face and offered a weak smile.

"Yes... yes, I did."

His smile widened.

"Me too. I'd like to do this again someday, if you want."

"Just how much did you enjoy that, Max?" Galen chuckled.

"A lot!"

Max nuzzled his neck.

"I've had the fantasy for a while, but there wasn't anyone I could act it out with… and you, Galen? Is there something you liked in particular?"

Galen leaned into Max' touch.

"Well, Max, I've done this a lot, but here's the thing - the fact you relied on your superiority and command instead of ropes and binders is quite an accomplishment."

“Another medal to be pinned to my chest?” Max teased.

Galen gave him a weak, playful slap.

“Oh, you cocky little war hero, you!”

 


End file.
